


It Would Never Happen Again (College!Au) (Kim Seokjin)

by angelxtal



Category: Bangtan, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: College, College!AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8684134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelxtal/pseuds/angelxtal
Summary: Together in college you were free together, but careers take off, and so does he.





	

White lights flashed all around him. it was the one carpet show where he and Bangtan would stand solemnly, to portray the feeling of their album; strength. The second that you walked through the glass doors, your dark dress flowing behind you, hands reaching up into your hair, he felt all his strength leave his body.

It’s her.

The memories flashing before his eyes shocked him far more than the lights of the cameras. When the two of you were first in love, dancing around one another delicately, trying not to let the other one know how you felt. The first kiss, when all the walls came crumbling down, when all emotions and feelings were poured into your actions.

He could see himself holding your hand in the park, holding doors open for you and kissing all over your neck. 

You were studious, always doing things the same, eating the same lunch every day, going to the same shift at the same job every day, singing the same traditional songs and painting the same type of trees in different patterns. He was completely unorganized, never finishing projects, never committing to any band or companies, never daring to sign a contract.

The two of you had started out shy, first meeting in an art class where you were assigned to paint one another. The assignment was to get to know who the person was, and how they lived.

He demanded that the first way to do so was to go to the other’s dorm and see literally, how they lived. That hadn’t gone over to well.

He had excessively made fun of you for being organized, teasing you about your color coordinated things, and your schedule put so neatly on your wall. Your roommate was apparently too rich to ever stay a full night in the room, so all of the space was used for organizing your things.

While he made fun of your conditions, he had seemed perfectly fine. “Do you color coordinate the sticks up your ass too?” He had teased you. The minute that you had tried to go to his dorm, however, he seemed to have an issue. You had to push your way through the doors, only to find that his clothes were everywhere.

It wasn’t unhygienic, but he was still embarrassed. It was a complete mess.

A little further through the year he started to get to know you, bringing you around the city and showing you different music shops. TUrns out your styles there were different too. But that’s when you both started to accept it.

He would bring you out of the city, away from the perfectly straight, perfectly aligned buildings, and into the outdoors. The two of you would climb over boulders together, a hard journey up a mountain to see the stars that were always blocked by city light. There, you were free.

There was no order around you, just a gleeful boy, who was singing and screaming at the top of the lungs, declaring that you were kings and queens of the world. In those moments you felt no need to follow any rules, no need to have any routine at all.

You would take him to small shops around the city, teaching him about using traditional instruments in modern music, how to make it all blend together. He was no good with pattern, his music always sounded spastic to you. The styles influenced one another.

Your final art pieces, though, were very much changed from the original plan. He had planned to paint you with the wind in your hair, wild and free, but then he got to know you. His interpretation of you was covered in roses and dark flowers, white lilies lining your hair. When you had first saw it, a watercolor piece sprinkled with glitter that he’d used to line the edges, you knew how he felt.

In your painting you captured how he lived his life, and who he was. It was him standing on that mountain, on top of the big boulder he had so triumphantly mounted, his arms spread wide and his skin blue with the outdoor air, yet his smile was the same as always.

Both of you had set one another free.

On the day that you acknowledged your love for one another, you had stayed in your apartment. it was the one time that you would allow him to make it messy and get away with it. He laid on top of you that morning, kissing over your collarbones and pushing your hair aside so that he could see all of your body.

Whisperings about who beautiful you were would fall all over your body, his lips trailing down your stomach. Yellow light from the morning had spilled over your skin, bringing the same glittering gold over your skin as you loved one another.

Then your influence on one another, the biggest blessing either of you could have been given, was taken to another point, when offers came in from others. Programs to join, contracts to sign, groups to meet and people to engage with.

You supported him in his newfound confidence; the stability that you had brought to him made it possible for him to finally join a group, to finally sign a contract. His music used violins in it, a traditional instrument in his rap songs, and his dance became more organized. He became a professional.

You engaged in the arts. Roses and lilies covered the front of your group’s first album. Those flowers were the same ones that had once lined the portrait made by a man whose name you tried not to mention. Careers took off, as did planes. Calls and texts were everyday, then every other day, then every week, then once a month, and then they stopped.

One final call, the last on that had come from you to him, was one that he would never forget.

He still remembered the words that had left your lips, the moment that he knew his world was going to come crashing down.

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I really do hope that it’s not inevitable, but Seokjin i’m in love with someone else. I believe we both deserve mutual love, but we don’t have that between us anymore. I’m sorry. I really loved you when we were younger- and I still deeply care for you, but I can’t be with you when I’m thinking about him. It’s only a matter of time before I act on my feelings and I don’t want it to be an act of infidelity.”

He often found himself wondering if it hurt you as it did him. If the calls stopping, and the kisses ending, and the impersonalization of his music, ever hurt you just like they made him scream. He would lie awake at night, wishing that he was there in that dorm room, covered in golden light, hearing you tell him that you loved him.

Though he knew it would never happen again.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’m writing this all in one sitting and I’m never reading it again because it will kill me. i found this very sad although I’m sure it’s shit. I hope you liked the college au, though I now realize that’s not at all what the requester probably wanted.
> 
> This was originally for my tumblr account @angelxtal, but I'm posting it here as well just so that I can get a feel for this sight. 
> 
> For those of you who don't know me, my name is Tal and i'm on tumblr as angelxtal, admxtal, and schmudt.


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